Something in the bushes to the side of the road caught Caleb’s attention. At first he thought someone had discarded a cow hide and wondered if there were rustlers about, but then he made out a nose and ears. A pup. Dead by the look of it.
He didn’t want Teddy to notice, so he leaned over the boy. “Remember, you must always hold the reins as if something could startle your horse. Never get so relaxed he could get away from you.”
Teddy pulled his hands from Caleb’s and straightened, leaning hard into Caleb’s shoulder as he turned to look to the side. “Papa, it’s a dog.”
“Don’t you want to drive the wagon still?”
Teddy patted Caleb’s shoulder. “He’s hurt.”
“Son, we have to get back.” Please, Teddy. Let it go. You don’t want to see any more suffering and death.
“Papa, he needs our help.”
When Caleb continued onward, Teddy pounded his shoulder. “Papa, you can’t leave him. You can’t. He’s hurt. You have to help. Stop. Please stop.” Tears mingled with Teddy’s demands.
Caleb pulled the wagon to a stop and held Teddy by the shoulders. “Son, he’s dead and I don’t want you to see it.”
Teddy flung his father’s hands off his shoulders. “You don’t know that. What if he’s only hurt?” He pursed his lips and gave Caleb a narrow-eyed look. “You ain’t gonna just leave him there to die, are you?”
“He’s already dead.” How could such a small body hold so much stubbornness?
“Then we need to bury him.”
Caleb would have protected his son from ever again seeing blood and death and burial, but the boy seemed to have other thoughts on the matter. “Very well.” He jumped down, lifted Teddy to the ground, handed him his crutches and grabbed a shovel out of the wagon. He followed his son to the dog.
A pair of eyes opened and followed their approach.
“Papa, he’s alive.”
Caleb knelt by the dog. It had been slashed, and whimpered as if in pain. He saw it was a female. “Teddy, she’s barely alive and she’s hurting.” He pushed to his feet. “I want you to come back to the wagon.” He waited for the boy to obey, but Teddy only looked at him in puzzlement.
“Why, Papa?”
“Just do as I say.” Caleb’s feet felt heavy as rocks as he went back to the wagon and reached under the seat. He had to do what he had to do. It will be a kindness. The poor animal shouldn’t be allowed to suffer.
Teddy hobbled after him, saw Caleb reach for the rifle and screamed. “No. You can’t shoot my dog.” He scrambled to the animal so fast Caleb held his breath for fear he’d fall and further injure himself.
“She’s my dog.” Teddy huddled forward. “Ain’t nobody ever gonna hurt her.”
“Son, she isn’t going to live.”
“You’re wrong.”
He tried every argument to convince Teddy of the futility of trying to save the dog, but his son would not relent. Though Caleb saw nothing ahead but sorrow and regret, he couldn’t stay at the side of the road any longer. He wrapped the injured dog in a gunny sack and carried her gingerly to the wagon. “We’ll take her home and stay with her so she doesn’t die alone.” He made the animal as comfortable as possible.
“I’ll stay with her.”
Knowing when to concede defeat, Caleb lifted Teddy in beside the dog and continued on his way. At the ranch he pulled up to the storage shed and unloaded the supplies. Thankfully Ebner wasn’t around to demand he explain why it had taken so long to get back. It also saved Caleb from confronting the man about how he’d treated the Bells.
His task done, he carried the dog over to the covered wagon he shared with Teddy. He could have joined the others in the bunkhouse, but it wasn’t the sort of atmosphere he wanted Teddy exposed to. It would soon get too cold to sleep in the wagon—he counted on having enough money to head east before then.
“You know what Mr. Frank said?” Teddy sat beside the dog, rubbing a spot behind the animal’s ear.
“He said a lot of things.” The man had seemed bent on informing Caleb about the “beautiful Bell girls.” He’d overlooked one tiny detail—the Bells and the Caldwells didn’t get along.
“He said that pretty lady you helped knew how to fix things.”
“Things?” Was she a blacksmith? He couldn’t imagine it, but he’d encountered stranger things in the West.
“Hurt things.” Teddy must have thought he needed to explain her abilities more. “Mr. Frank said she helps people, too, and all kinds of animals.”
Caleb smiled at his son’s enthusiasm. “Hurt people, too, huh?” He wondered if she could help him. He silently laughed in derision. It was those around him who would need her help. People who got close to him tended to get hurt.
“But especially hurt dogs.” Teddy gave Caleb a wide-eyed, pleading look that brought a smile to Caleb’s lips. How long had it been since Teddy had cared enough about something to use that special look of his?
“What are you saying, son?” As if he didn’t know. But he dared not give the boy any encouragement. The dog looked beyond saving.
“We could ask her to help my dog.”
“It might not do any good.” But what harm would it do? Perhaps Lilly could help. Perhaps Caleb could protect his son from more pain.
“Couldn’t we try, please?”
* * *
Lilly put the last of the packages into the wagon and then stared after Caleb and his son. Poor little fellow was limited by having to use crutches. Had he broken his leg? Perhaps he had a severe cut. She hoped, whatever the cause, the injury was temporary. God, please help the little fellow get better.
Caleb was so tender with the lad. He had lifted him to the wagon seat and laughed at him, and then had taken him on his lap as they drove away, little Teddy almost bursting with pride as he gripped the reins.
There was a time she’d hoped she’d have a little boy or girl of her own. But thanks to one Karl Mueller, she’d given up such dreams.
Tightness weaved around her spine. How could she have let herself care so deeply? And in hindsight, so foolishly? She could put it down to age. She had been a mere sixteen years old when she’d been thrilled and somewhat surprised at the attention he’d paid her. After all, he had been handsome and so grown-up at eighteen. So attentive. He’d made her feel important when he tipped his head to listen to her talk. She’d told him her dreams and her fears. He’d assured her he understood. They’d agreed that when Lilly turned eighteen they would marry. And she’d trusted him. Sometimes she wondered if Karl really believed the things he’d promised, or if they’d fallen off his tongue simply because he thought they would please her. One thing Karl liked was to know people were happy with him.
Karl had saved his announcement for her eighteenth birthday, as if it might have been a reason for celebration. He’d revealed he had other plans. He’d been employed by Mr. Fry at the hardware store for a year. Mr. Fry said how much he appreciated Karl’s work and asked him to go to Oregon to take over the operation of another Fry store. Karl’s chest had expanded three sizes as he told Lilly this.
Karl had never once suggested she accompany him. His words made it very clear that it wasn’t part of his plan. “My time and attention must be on this business. I intend to make this the most successful store Mr. Fry has. He’ll be so pleased he’ll make me a partner.” Karl fairly glowed with self-satisfaction. He’d never expressed a word of sorrow over ending their plans so abruptly. Never